Tears
by ValkyrieVeela
Summary: Merlin is killed instead of Athur. Everyone is grieving and someone unexpected turns up with her tears.
1. Chapter 1

Mordred thrust forwards the blade forged in the breath of the dragonet Aithusa...

Into the abdomen of Merlin Emrys.

Stunned, he didn't even notice the fatal blow that he himself received seconds later until he took his last breath; the last image burned into his retinas was the grief-stricken face of the Once and Future King. With a final sigh, he passed into the void.

Arthur looked on in dawning horror as he watched _Merlin_ - his manservant, _Merlin_ – still dressed in the robe of the warlock Emrys – being run through. He reacted only when Merlin fell, gasping for breath and clutching his wound with the eyes of a man who has accepted his defeat.

Arthur cried out and killed Mordred where he stood, before clasping the sorcerer tightly to his chest.

"Come on Merlin, hang on."

He struggled to his feet; he knew already that they wouldn't make it in time, and from the look on his face Merlin doubted they would leave the battlefield at all unless they both succumbed to Death's cold embrace.

"A-Arthur – "he choked, "Arthur _please – _I-I-I _wanted_ to –"

"Shut up, Merlin!"

"P-P-Prat."

"I know – listen, Merlin, you haven't got that far to go, it's only a few hundred yards and then Gaius will heal you –"

"N-_No –_ Have to tell – "he grimaced as the gash bled profusely.

"I saw what you did today, old friend. I was hurt – still am – but everyone who fought for Camelot out there today is eternally in your debt, no-one more than me." The King himself seemed a little disturbed at his suddenly sombre outlook. "And besides, you can make up for the lies by telling us the whole story once you're well. From the looks of it, you have a lot of explaining to do."

"Arthur –"Merlin wheezed "- I think we both know there won't be time for my tale."

He couldn't respond to that.

Arthur hefted more of his best friend's weight onto his shoulders, and the pair continued in silence till they reached the tent containing Gaius and Gwen.

Mere minutes later, Merlin Emrys, son of the Dragonlord Balinor and Hunith of Ealdor, The Last Dragonlord and the most powerful Warlock to ever walk the Earth, the man made as much of magic as flesh and blood, rejoiced in his last stand at the Battle of Camlann, and then...

He died.


	2. Chapter 2

**Arthur**

I couldn't believe it. Focusing on his magic, his _betrayal_, hurt more than I could possibly have imagined.

But losing him was so much worse.

I just sat there. Guinevere was rushing around, making tinctures and binding wounds. I think she was avoiding... _it..._ as well, in what was certainly a better way than mine; she could at least be _useful_. Better than sitting beside the body of your best friend contemplating all the things you'd say to him, all the hurting, yelling, teasing, if only...

Gaius was there too, I remember that much. Mostly they just left me to my own devices. I thought of all the times we'd been out on our adventures, all the laughs, the jokes, the never-ending name calling that I always pretended to hate so much. I realised then that much as I loved my Queen, as much as Gaius cared for me, as much as my Knights of the Round Table were loyal, he had been my rock. He was the one who saw me at my worst, who made me my best. He was the one who carried me through. Suddenly every joke anyone had ever made about him being weak, being useless, surged back in full force, and I dearly wished that I could take back each one of them. Jokes they may have been, but looking back now they were sometimes too meaningful than they ought. After that little display of power on the field for me today I knew also that they were entirely untrue.

Naturally I'd wrangled the prophecy out of Gaius right before the battle; I'd wanted to know why he'd paled so when I told him we were to make our stand at Camlann. He then explained to me that I was the Once and Future King, that I would be aided by the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the Earth, and that I was destined to die by Mordred's blade on the fields of Camlann.

Clearly he was wrong.

Either that or Emrys also knew of the prophecy and was determined to give his life for me, as always. Knowing him, he'd been planning to from the start. When he just appeared in front of me like that it gave me the biggest shock I'd ever had in my life: not only was the all-powerful Warlock Emrys in fact my trusted friend and manservant, but he was also able to bend the very fabric of the Earth in order to transport himself from the cliff to the canyon. That sort of magic had never been done before; now that he's gone, it will never be performed again. Still his power awed me, made me understand at least why my half-sister wanted both of them dead so very badly.

And yet I would give all of that up, my throne, my destiny, my life, just to see him live, to see him smile. The prophecy said that we were two sides of the same coin. I don't know if my life is worth living without him now.

"Goodbye... old friend. Farewell...

Merlin."


	3. Chapter 3

**Gaius**

"My boy."

'_Hunith is going to kill me'_ was my first thought. I've never been more ashamed in all my life than when my mind formed that sentence. Merlin himself had indirectly forced me to do many things that were shameful; breaking the law, participating in sorcery to kill Alice's Manticore, lying to my friends, what little family I had left, even to Merlin about Balinor, both my Kings. Now I had to lie to myself for him, tell myself that it was just another soldier caught unawares, an unlucky soul with but one wound that finished him off, just a random pile of bones and flesh that had nothing to do with the King sitting in the corner, silently weeping for the loss of his friend...

I washed his body. I stemmed the ongoing flow of blood and I laid him to rest as I tended the other patients. I healed the King's wounds; I helped Gwen with the more gruesome tasks; I made poultices; I administered tinctures; I prescribed treatments and I presided over many more deaths on that fated day. Yet still I remembered, and I too wept.

The next few days came as rather a blur; we had indeed won the battle, but at the cost of a great many men – too many. The time was ideal for Morgana and her forces to strike, but the blow never fell. She was still out there, this we knew; several of our patrols had confirmed it, but none of them had seen any further than her, Aithusa and two small figures behind her. They all agreed that whatever these creatures were they must be magically disguised, for although the Lady Morgana may once have proved a certain fondness for children, since Mordred she had seemingly harboured no qualms about slaughtering entire families should they oppose her, babies included. Therefore, a magical attack was to be expected, and the city remained on alert for a time.

During this time, my King spent hours every day working on a bill for the legalisation of magic. He had a haunted look about him; he visited my chambers on a regular basis for my counsel and to see Merlin. Obviously he never stated the latter as a reason for his visits, but it was clear to me that this was perhaps the main cause.

"Gaius?"

"You may enter, Sire."

"It's... it's not about the repeal this time, it's... well... the, erm, Druids and other peoples of a magical background wish to pay tribute to Emrys, and I wondered..."

"I shall have him moved to the Great Hall immediately, Sire."

"Thank you Gaius."

He stood there for a few minutes, staring at Merlin. Eventually, he dragged himself out of his silent reverie and said, "It's for him, you know. The..." he made a vague sort of gesture that I took to mean 'legalisation of magical practices in Camelot'.

"Of course, Sire."

At that point the Knights entered.

"We heard about the Druids, and we wanted you to know that we would help in any way we could."

"Thank you,Percival. Wait – where's Gwaine?"

"Searching for the Witch, Sire. He would not take any advice to the contrary. We believe him to be a day's ride from Camelot. He plans to be back for... for the funeral." Sir Leon had spoken this time; he had never been the closest person to Merlin, and I remembered his reaction when he discovered who the sorcerer was; severely _dis_pleased. Then I recalled his reaction when he discovered that Merlin had died; devastated. The King cursed – he pushed himself away from the wall and told the guards outside to have Sir Gwaine found and brought back to Camelot immediately. This made me smile for the first time since Camlann; I knew as well as the other Knights just how difficult _that_ task would be. My smile faded as I thought again about the one person who could have got the job done with less than a full sentence before leading his friend to the very ends of the Earth if absolutely necessary. The bond between them had been strong, even stronger than between him and Arthur in some aspects. Merlin was there for Gwaine, and Gwaine would do anything for Merlin.

I was shaken out of my own reverie when I heard the screeches of swords being removed from their scabbards. The person who walked through the door was the last person any of us had expected.


	4. Chapter 4 - Morgana Part One

**Morgana**

Getting out of Camlann was much easier than we'd anticipated.

We were in a position where we could see much of the battle; we were winning, and Arthur's forces were slowly being driven back and slaughtered like cattle. I felt sorry for them, of course I did, but when your beloved Sister decides to possess you every few months and force you to attack your homeland then there's not really a lot you can do about it. In that first year with her she'd taught me many things and loved me as the only family I had (up to a point – she was furious when we found out about the twins and was all too ready to believe me when I said I'd had them killed), the only one who cared enough to take me in when everyone else had failed me, betrayed me. (Also untrue – Hunith was a massive help with the birth and took the babes, no questions asked.) The healing bracelet doesn't cure the strongest of nightmares; I still see his face sometimes, when I'm sleeping, and when I wake little Vivienne asks me why I was in a big room, why couldn't I breathe properly, and why that man's face was making me so sad... Her brother doesn't wake, of course. Vivienne shares my gift, that of a Seer, but at five years old her powers already far surpass mine, as do Balinor's. Her gift is stronger in the way of auras and dreams, meaning that she shares mine and her brother's dreams when Morgause is away and we can live as a family. Balinor's powers focus more on the physical aspect of things – sometimes I could readily believe that if I let him he could easily reshape the whole world simply to make it a more interesting place to live in. There is something about his power that Vivienne and I sense has yet to waken, but I can't possibly know everything and keeping the knowledge of their continued existence from the soul of my dead sister is taking up all my energy right now.

Looking back out over the battle we see that someone else has arrived; Emrys. The sight of the old man still fills me with fear, more so now that my sister discovered his identity when she took in Mordred. It was only a matter of time before she hit upon something that could destroy him – though naturally she didn't consider that he is made of magic and would always find a way of regaining access to his power. He is doing well - Morgause's spies tell us that he was seen leaving the Crystal Cave mere hours ago. I feel a surge of pride as I watch him decimate her army within minutes; truly, he is the most powerful Warlock to ever walk this Earth.

Something else captures our attention as my Sister inwardly berates me for my traitorous glee; Mordred is approaching Arthur with the blade we gave him. Aithusa is whining at our right hand, for she knows what is about to happen, knows what her forced work is about to do, how much hurt her fire has wrought. Oddly, considering our Bond, I was the only one to see Emrys order her away from the battle. I was grateful for that; I don't want any of my babies near danger. It did surprise me though, that he never said he was a Dragonlord. Should've guessed, really, when I decided to name Balinor after his Grandfather and Vivienne for my Mother. But right then, we had more pressing matters at hand. The King and the former Knight had engaged in a short, brutal duel. Mordred was winning. As he thrust the blade forwards we knew that it was all over, that the battle would be won without a leader for the enemy, that in seconds King Arthur Pendragon would be dead and a new Queen would take the throne.

Well that theory went to shit pretty darn quick. Even the best laid plans...

Morgause left me for the last time as the blade sunk home; her revenge was complete, and so was her afterlife. She'd planned from the beginning to leave as soon as I was the only candidate for the throne, as she knew there was no way I could survive without that power. The sword, however, thought differently. That sword went through a belly, yes, dealt a fatal blow, yes, killed the Once and Future King? Not so much. No, instead it slid into a man who could not possibly have been there before, not without the most powerful of magics, and indeed, as he snapped into view in front of Arthur the aging spell failed. The hair grew from long snow white to short, rumpled raven hues; the beard disappeared completely, leaving behind an impossibly pale face; the arthritic joints gave way to strong yet gangly limbs; the man impaled of the sword was revealed as who he was. He was revealed as Arthur's manservant, Hunith and Balinor's son, Gaius' Ward, the father of twins he would never know, my destiny, my doom, and my only love.

The man before us, dying, unafraid, was Merlin, and he was changing the destiny of Albion.

With a wail of despair, my Sister destroyed herself in a last-ditch attempt to return to me; I killed all her men within a mile radius and within minutes found myself fleeing, already halfway to Ealdor where my children waited for me to tell them and their Grandmother _sorry_, that Daddy would never find out about them now, and that all was lost.

So naturally it came as quite the surprise to me when I found them with Aithusa, Balinor soothing her in an foreign tongue an Vivienne telling Hunith about the memories she'd got from the poor dragonet's mind of the day before.

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**Author's Note: This chapter is called Morgana Part One because it will not be the only one from Morgana's POV. I think the next chapter should be from the twins' shared POV though - if anyone has a suggestion for future chapters feel free to leave a review! (Even for such a woefully incompetent tale such as this!)**

**VVxxxx**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: So I decided to go with the twins after all. In this Fic they are eight years old and every second line/paragraph is Balinor. They name each other a couple of times so you can tell who's who. Hope you enjoy it - I don't know if anyone read the last three chapters added because there aren't any new reviews!**

**Please read and tell me what you think!**

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**Vivienne and Balinor**

Obviously we knew something bad was going to happen, didn't we?

Mmm.

Mummy had been having bad dreams about Daddy again. She didn't know we knew it was him, though – or that I was sharing them with Balinor when she went away with Auntie. Auntie never found out about us, though – like Daddy, she died before she had the chance.

I miss Daddy more than Viv. I actually got some of his magic as a Dragonlord when he died, so we knew what happened even before Aithusa turned up and Viv took her memories.

I didn't just _take_ them, Balinor. Shut up. She was fine after you talked to her anyway. But I _do_ miss Daddy badly – I was the one seeing him in Mummy's head in the first place! Anyway.

We didn't think she'd come so soon.

Grandma said we could go and play with the other children, but they wouldn't because by then they knew we weren't normal.

Plus their parents already told them about how our Daddy wasn't normal either, or our Mummy, and because Daddy never visited us it meant we were bad children who shouldn't have been born in the first place since we were obviously –

No need for that kind of language, Bal. Please focus on the matter at hand.

Sorry.

So when Mummy turned up we had already had forewarning. This meant that when Grandma told us to go and play, we went to get ready to go to Camelot.

Not an easy task; you had to get into Grandma's head to find out what she usually pack for Daddy without her feeling you. It's no fun serving as a distraction for an overly-dominant sibling, you know that Viv?

Stop using big words, Brother, you'll hurt yourself. It was your magic that got the stuff fetched and packed, it was my magic that got it listed and identified. All's fair in sibling rivalry.

_So when Mummy finally turned up...?_

Er... yes. Right. Mummy arrived on a big brown horse that looked really, really _tired _–

Which we hadn't thought of.

Which we hadn't thought of. So while Bal went off to 'borrow' another one I joined minds with him then Mummy and we told her about what we were going to do, .i.e. go to Camelot to pay respect to our Father and also double check how much we'll have to grow to be as tall as him one day. Bal's quite insistent on that. Grandma says he's more like Daddy's twin than mine, both in looks and ability. Of course I'm just exactly like Mummy, so it's all square.

Mummy was surprised, but not that much, when we told her we already knew. She was glad that we'd –

- I'd –

- Already told Grandma about everything, but a bit cross that we'd –

- I'D –

- Left it to the last minute to make sure they had to comply with our plan.

Grandma was really upset that we were going, she said she was too old to go on such expeditions, however much she wanted to, and to give Daddy a kiss from her.

I think Mummy just sort of froze for a bit when Grandma told us that. Whenever Auntie's away and she can't find out about us, Mummy spends ALL of her time with Grandma –

- Except sleeping –

- Which she obviously does with us.

She cried a little when we left. We wanted to use Bal's magic to get us there, since his only affects the tangible world whereas mine only affects the –

- Useless, wifty-wafty –

- SPIRITUAL one. And might I remind YOU that it's MY powers that make our twin telepathy even POSSIBLE? HMM?

...Sorry.

But anyway, Mummy said that if we were taking our Father's old road to visit our Father's body before our Father's funeral, then it only stood to reason that we use our Father's habitual method of transportation, .i.e. horses and our own two feet.

Yes, thanks for bringing that up actually – it turned out that there was only ONE horse in the whole village that was available for use and that was only because it was too old to be of any help.

Well sor-RY! Mummy says that only the very very bestest and strongest horse could have carried all three of us anyway.

'Bestest' isn't a word.

Bal?

Yes?

Shut up.

Right.

So the walk to Camelot took longer than expected –

Yeah, so apparently grown men take a shorter time to make long journeys by foot than a pair of five-year-olds, who knew (!)?

_Bal, seriously – _

Shutting up.

_Thank you_. We thought we were spotted a couple of times on the way. Mummy was a bit upset about that 'cos she wanted us to get in and out unnoticed, but that... failed.

That's just what happens when you let little girls plan your entrance. Oh. Erm...

So when we actually got to the castle everything up till then had gone COMPLETELY smoothly, so it was a bit of a shock when we were apprehended by the guards just beyond the twenty-eighth corridor.

Luckily though, the useless clotpole let me...dispose...of them with barely a flash of my hansome blue eyes.

And then the clotpole ever so professionally wiped their minds with barely a batter of the lovely black lashes concealing her own pretty green ones.

Prat.

Idiot.

Dollophead.

Where _do_ you get these words?

_You're _supposed to be the mind reader – figure it out!

Maybe I will if we ever finish this thing – or I guess we could just ask Uncle Arthur – WHOOPS.

Dollophead

Clotpole.

MY word!

Shut up. Mummy said we'd better hurry up, so we did, using her memories of the castle in all our heads to get us there with more speed and efficiency.

When we got to Gaius' front door we had to use the same...methods...as before to, er, bypass the guards. Although it turned out to be all for NOTHING, seeing as SOMEONE forgot to check INSIDE the chambers for the presence of others before she let Mummy just walk in.

Yes...I still feel guilty about that. It's been three years; you'd think I'd be over it by now.

Well at least we both know you'll never make that mistake again Viv.

I suppose.

And I was there to save the day after all, so it all worked out fine in the end with or without you thanks to my own pure amazing-ness.

Thanks...I think. So yes, I let Mummy walk through the door. She was greeted with the sound of three swords being drawn from their scabbards and one old man's gasp of '_Morgana!_'.

We knew enough to assume that the voice was Gaius' and that the swords likely belonged to some of the more of well-trained Knights of Camelot, and that one of them was probably the King himself-

To be known to us in the days to come as our 'Uncle Arthur' –

- Who was apparently Daddy's best friend –

- And the one Daddy died for, the Once and Future King. Our suspicions were confirmed when Bal disarmed them and I made it so that they could move, but if they tried anything funny their minds would instantly tell them that they were experiencing the worst kind of agony. Not that I left them a message to tell them as much.

Sometimes I wonder about you, Vivienne le Fay.

And sometimes I worry that you're too much of an idiot for that sort of thinking, Balinor Ambrosious, Last Lord of Dragons of the Line of Merlin Emrys.

Never knew my name was that long to be honest.

I know you didn't. I'm your nosy, irritating, all-powerful mind-reading twin sister.

But that's not what we're talking about, Dollophead.

Agreed, Idiot. We're recounting the scene that met our eyes when we first confronted the King.

Actually, no, we're not.

I'm sorry?

We're telling this tale in a round, Viv. The grown-ups are the ones who actually _knew _Daddy, so they're the ones who'll continue the epilogue from here.

I suppose that makes sense...So long as they remember that in everything else, WE take precedence.

Especially the pecking order for the Feast in our Father's honour.

'Specially the Feast.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi to all the people who ought-to-be-reading-this-story-because-they've-fol lowed-it-but-have-probably-forgotten-all-about-it- cos-it's-really-not-that-interesting-cos-it's-only -my-first-attempt-at-any-proper-story!**

**I would just like to inform you that I have begun writing a new story on the 'Shapeshifter, Ali Sparkes' page called 'The Next Generation' (no crossover). PLEASE check it out - there's only about ten people on that page or something? Which makes NO sense because 'The Shapeshifter' is truly awesome! **

**Thank'ee.**

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**Guinevere**

Waiting for Arthur during the battle was absolute torture.

I overheard them talking about the prophecy, him and Gaius that is, before we set off. Naturally, I was absolutely terrified. Though I feel like I somehow _knew_ he'd be coming home to me. I just didn't realise at the time what price it would come at.

When I saw his face as Gaius and I examined Merlin's wound – it was just awful. I knew in that moment that losing Merlin was just as bad as losing Arthur, albeit in a slightly different way – obviously. But Merlin was my friend, my rock – come to think of it, pretty much the whole of Camelot relied upon him, just for emotional support if nothing else. During the battle Gaius finally hinted just how much power Merlin truly wielded, and I thought, '_Surely he is safe then, for even as Morgana cannot be killed by a mortal blade, Merlin, or rather Emrys, is so much stronger than her – he will not be felled today. So just my Husband to worry about then, as always_.' Never before have I appreciated just how much I could be wrong.

If I could see Merlin again one last time, I think I would tell him I was grateful. For everything. I am well aware that this cannot last, however. Arthur misses Merlin dearly – 'two sides of the same coin', I believe – and I can see that once he reunites Albion, he will truly have nothing left to live for. Not even me. At times such as these I miss being maidservant to my best friend; the Lady Morgana of the House of Gorlois, before she became the corrupt and evil High Priestess of the Old Religion, Morgana Pendragon. I miss being able to talk to her, tell her everything and know that she confides in me to the same extent. I miss her judgement, her wisdom. I miss being with someone who had such a sense of clarity in the world; you were either with her or against her, good or evil. There was never a grey area or a half-measure with Morgana; if you asked for her advice, you would receive it and it would be sound. I think it was this that led to her downfall; she decided that Uther was against her, that he was evil. I suppose this would have been fine if not for her branding Arthur with the same iron; this, I think, was down to Morgause's influence. The old Morgana would never have done that, would never have so many times tried to bring down her half-brother through the death of her one-time lover...

Yes, Merlin was once her consort, and yes, as their friend and her maidservant I knew about it. It was my job to wake Merlin five minutes before dawn each morning to give him time to race downstairs to his own bed before leaving Gaius' chambers to fetch the Prince's morning meal. I remember those times fondly; when we three were the best of friends and trusted each other completely. Or so it seemed. Clearly Merlin didn't trust us nearly enough, and Morgana had so little faith in either one of us near the end that she was willing to believe that we would kill her for her gift, or at the very least sell her out to her own father. By the time Merlin poisoned her (aside from Gaius I was the only one he told) she had already fallen completely under her half-sister's sway, and was perfectly willing to murder us all.

Merlin, of course, was utterly devastated. They hadn't been together for a while; he was her love, for goodness' sake, how could she think she could deceive him so? How could she convince herself that he would allow her to become the King's murderer right under all our noses? Even when she succeeded she did so indirectly and only after being exposed as a traitor. He was her match; she ought to have been happier when she realised she'd met him, I feel. Although it always struck me as odd just how quickly and completely she changed in that year. For one thing, she bore the signs of having been with child – and having given birth too. I once tired to broach the subject (surely Merlin would want to know – who else's babe could she have carried?) but the look she gave me then will haunt me forever. When I tried to talk to her about some of the happy memories we shared, she would simply stare at me as if I were mad. She seemed to recall only bad moments; the squabbles she and Merlin occasionally fought, the quarrels she would have with Arthur, the full-scale screaming matches over moral righteousness she would have with the King... she even only appeared to recall a select few of our own disagreements in favour of our sisterly chats. She was a whole other person and Merlin worked so hard to bring her back from the brink... but she sank into oblivion nonetheless.

When he died, I looked up and saw her face. It was an awful mixture of triumph, loss, pride, grief and utter devastation. Something strange was going on. It took us a short journey back to Camelot and a few days' recovering for us to discover what.


End file.
